THE FIVE: The New Clan
by Miss Kisharoo
Summary: "During calamity, four will turn to five, and wind will finally join the incarnations of shadow, sky, thunder, and river... But vying for a home will be two, not one, and only a single Clan can prevail. Each has a rightful place, but there cannot be two. A battle that cannot be escaped will follow, and during this time water will turn to blood in the land saved for wind."
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

_Baddum…_ _baddum… baddum…_

It was so rapid that he barely had enough time to listen. That pounding, that life, that flicker–so strong, yet so weak, as if it could be taken away in an instant. For a long time, the cat didn't know what was blaring in his ears. He just listened to it, trying to calm the fear in his chest and overcome the blind darkness around him.

_Baddum baddum… baddum baddum baddum…_

Now there were more pounding noises. The weaker one, the flickering one, was joined by many more, its symphony of pounds scarce against the others.

"W-what's going on?"

That was his voice, he knew deep down, but for a long time that notion barely connected. He had been trying to talk, trying to free himself from the dream prison, and yet, even as the muteness began to subside, nothing had come out except for squeaks. It was as though a thief had stolen his voice, replacing it with those pitiful noises. Now, after all of his effort, a feeble whisper resulted. The strong, mature voice of a warrior had shrunk into an apprentice-like yelp without him even knowing.

There was no answer as the beats, one by one, became quieter. Their strength was somehow still evident, even as the noises squelched into thin whispers. And then there was only one—the first. Its rhythm was slow and weak, as minute as one blade of grass among millions. One second between the next beat became three, then nine… until there was nothing.

Again, the warrior spoke, this time saying, "What was that?" and again his voice barely stood up to a newborn kit's weakest mewls.

"You should know, Grassheart, my loyal servant. Any hunter of prey would…"

The warrior's voice was stolen once again, as though this black world was making sure that he had time to think. That voice—he knew it. That voice was so familiar. It was kind and gentle and tender, a voice that he'd heard so many times… a voice that he loved without end.

That was when, in a pop, the blackness dissipated so quickly that Grassheart uttered a sharp gasp. In the darkness's place was a vast stretch of land. It formed before his eyes—bit by bit, flower by flower, one blade of grass and then the next—until everything was crafted and all was still.

Warm sunlight fell on Grassheart's cheek, weaving its way through his soft cream fur and caressing his skin like a queen's tender lick. In contrast, a cool breeze hit his side, blowing in blossom-scented curls that weaved and wrapped. By then, it should have left, and yet it remained, its chill sinking away to reveal a glow of warmth. Comfort lulled Grassheart's worries and he turned his head, curious as to the source of this happiness, life, and presence.

There, at his side, the wind solidified, its transparent life filled by blood and wrappings of flesh and muscle and bone. The wind was a clear outline around the flesh, flourishing in place until it found perfect form: soft, thick brown fur covered in the faintest of swirls.

In place of the wind was a she-cat that smelled of the forest. Leaves and branches clung to her thick fur, but never did she seem unclean—on the contrary. This cat seemed refreshed and renewed by the forest. It was a part of her.

And there was only one cat that Grassheart knew that wore the forest like an accessory—

"_Larkstar_?"

The she-cat turned her head and directed that piercing sapphire gaze into Grassheart. He could see so much in those eyes—past pain, motherly love, intelligence beyond her many years. No matter how ancient Larkstar really was, Grassheart had never seen her as _old_. Age never crossed his mind when he saw her. When Grassheart saw his leader, he saw elegance and beauty. He saw the young leader that had made him blush as an apprentice.

"Grassheart," she whispered, her lighthearted tone strained, her blue eyes filled with a sadness that Grassheart had never seen. "There is so much to explain and so little time. In minutes, my journey will be complete."

Grassheart felt a cold hand of fear clutch his heart. He couldn't say why he was scared or why his voice was shaking when he said, "Larkstar… what are you talking about? What journey?"

His leader smiled, as though she knew so much more than her clanmate, and looked forward at the landscape before her.

"Ah. The journey that every cat walks, some shorter, some longer, is the one I speak of. I can see the end of my own—but yours… yours is filled with more hardships than you could imagine. It will be long and pained, I can tell you. And I am so sorry that this weight must be passed to your shoulders."

"L-Larkstar… this isn't the time to be speaking in poems—"

"Listen closely, Grassheart…" she murmured tenderly, her long tail flicking as it always did when Larkstar silently called for quiet. With another small smile, she sat down, gesturing for the warrior to do the same, and looked at the sky. Rapidly, the sky was darkening and the sun was lowering, but Larkstar looked as if she was savoring each unnaturally fast moment.

Then she opened her mouth to murmur in her melodic tone:

_"During calamity, four will turn to five, and wind will finally join the incarnations of shadow, sky, thunder, and river...  
__But vying for a home will be two, not one, and only a single Clan can prevail.  
__Each has a rightful place, but there cannot be two.  
__A battle that cannot be escaped will follow, and during this time water will turn to blood in the land saved for wind.__"_

Grassheart opened his mouth but, as always, Larkstar acted faster. Her gaze darted to the ever-darkening sky above, and she shook her head. "This is what StarClan has told me. If all is chosen correctly, seven seasons of peace shall ensue—but what shall happen after that? One wrong move and seven moons of destruction will come to pass—but the same question remains as the last. What shall happen after those seven moons? Everything will be in danger—your Clan, your family, _your life_, and the life of all others, no matter what you choose."

A thin stream of words came from Grassheart's lips—babbles of confusion—and, yet again, Larkstar silenced him: "Time is of essence, Grassheart. In my own words, I ask you to remember one more thing…"

An explosion of stars burst through the sky, and with it Larkstar looked upwards, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Yes, my love… I'm coming to you," she whispered absently. There, just below her paws, a trail of gold, silver, and white constellations met in a trail towards the sky. As if in a trance, Larkstar took a step forward, and then another, before abruptly snapping from her fantasy.

Larkstar's sapphire eyes twinkled like the stars that were below her feet as she turned to look over her shoulder. The longer that she stayed on the trail of stars, the more stars jumped into her fur like fireflies.

"Follow your heart, as you have always done," Larkstar called, her voice raised as high as it would go, but still distant. "Just because your name will change… doesn't mean that you should forget the reason why you were Grass_heart_!"

* * *

With a shivering gasp, Grassheart's mind whirred into wakefulness. There he was, perfectly warm and comfortable in the middle of the mass of warriors.

One thing that he did know was that the dream was not just that. "Dream" couldn't even begin to explain what Grassheart had just seen. Some of that was real. And he forced himself to think _some_ instead of _all_ because that would mean…

His heart skipped a beat, leaping into his throat. He pulled himself up, ignoring the moans of warriors around him, and shook sleepiness from his eyes.

Grassheart's paws barely worked, but he forced them to move forward. Tripping and falling became common by the time he had thrown himself from the mass of warriors.

The tom burst into a run, cold air nipping at his shoulders, stars blinking above him. He heard someone—_her_—asking him things, trying to keep up with his pace, but just couldn't stop. Grassheart had to get there.

He had to get to the Great Cedar. He had to see…

Then the smell—a strong hint of death mingling with the sweetest forest scent…

_No. Please, StarClan, no._

Grassheart could hear the cat that he loved choke down a sob as she ran alongside him. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see tears filling her brown eyes. She'd been through too much—she didn't need to see what was coming.

_What _isn't _coming_, Grassheart forced.

But the death scent was getting stronger and stronger… He could feel tears filling his own eyes…

Grassheart tore through the brambles reinforcing Larkstar's den, disregarding the warm blood that trickled down his back.

He heard Smallsong's sob before he could connect what had happened. He felt the sprinkling of Smallsong's tears before his own eyes could fill completely. He heard his love scream, "Not you, too, mother!" before he could even think of comforting her.

Grassheart's knees gave out beneath him and he fell headfirst into Larkstar's soft fur, trying to hide the tears—the tears of sadness, the tears of confusion, and the tears of being overwhelmed.

If this came true, then what else would?

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE:** I hope that you enjoyed, but heck, even if you didn't, I want you to tell me why! Remember that critiques, reviews, favorites, and follows are greatly appreciated, and that I also appreciate that you read! There's a lot more to come!

**DISCLAIMER: **The series that this is based off of, _Warriors_, belongs to the one and only Erin Hunter – however, the characters, Clan, and most of the setting belongs to me, Miss Kisharoo.


	2. Allegiances

**ALLEGIANCES**

* * *

**SWIFTCLAN**

TUNDRASHARD, a small but muscular white tabby tom, gray and blue patches, golden eyes  
SILVERDANCE, a lithe pale silver-blue tabby she-cat, green eyes  
BADGERSTRIPE, a long gray tom, amber eyes  
WILLOWSPECKLE, a long-furred tortoiseshell-tabby she-cat, amber eyes  
SALMONSPLASH, a lean calico-tabby tom, blue eyes  
LUNARPAW, a long-tailed pale tortoiseshell she-cat, brown eyes  
FERNFROST, a gray tabby she-cat, green eyes

* * *

**HARECLAN**

**Leader:** KESTRELSTAR, a long-legged black, gray, and white tom, blue eyes

**Deputy:** GALETALON, a large white-and-brown tabby tom, blue eyes

**Medicine Cat:** DUSTSHADOW, an elderly dark gray tabby tom, gray-blue eyes, mentor to Brightflower

**Warriors:** ASHENFLIGHT, a small pale gray and white tabby she-cat, amber eyes  
QUICKSTEP, a gangly black tom, yellow eyes  
BERRYCLAW, a lean white tom with black-and-brown patches, green eyes  
CEDARHEART, a battle-scarred sandy tabby tom, golden eyes

**Apprentices:** BRIGHTFLOWER, a tall brown-ginger she-cat, amber eyes

* * *

**BRACKENCLAN**

**Leader: **GRASS-STAR, a long-legged cream and brown tabby tom with a graying muzzle, dark green eyes

**Deputy: **SPARROWTALON, a muscular dark ginger tabby tom, golden eyes

**Medicine Cat: **GORSEWHISPER, a slender brown-and-white tom, brown eyes

**Warriors: **FINCHSTALKER, a golden tabby tom, bright green eyes  
FALLOWLEAP, a small white and ginger tabby she-cat, amber eyes  
BEEJUMPER, a messy-furred tortoiseshell she-cat, lively yellow eyes

**Apprentices: **FLICKINGPAW, a lean ginger tabby tom with a stumpy tail, golden eyes

**Elders: **LITTLEWHISKER, a lithe ginger-and-white she-cat, hazel eyes

* * *

**EAGLECLAN**

**Leader: **BLAZESTAR, a massive flame-colored tabby tom, hazel eyes

**Deputy: **STONEHEART, a lean dusty-gray she-cat, pale blue eyes

**Medicine Cat: **MOUSESONG, a tiny cream-and-beige tabby she-cat, blue eye; mute

**Warriors: **SMALLFLAME, a massive golden-ginger tabby tom, dark brown eyes  
HAILSHIMMER, a pale silver and white she-cat, light blue eyes  
ECHOBREEZE, a brown and pale ginger tabby she-cat, green eyes

**Apprentices: **HEATHERPAW, a strong-legged dark blue tom, dark brown eyes

**Elders: **CRAGTAIL, a crooked-tailed pale brown tabby tom, amber eyes

* * *

**OTTERCLAN**

**Leader: **BEAVERSTAR, a thickset mottled brown tom, honey-brown eyes

**Deputy: **TANGLEFUR, a messy-furred, scarred dark brown-and-white tabby she-cat, auburn eyes

**Medicine Cat: **SWANFEATHER, a long-furred white tabby she-cat with black stripes, brown eyes

**Warriors: **PALESHADOW, a tall albino tom with a long tail  
GRIZZLYHEART, a thick-furred dark brown tabby tom, amber eyes  
PEBBLE-EARS, a small black-and-gray she-cat, dark blue eyes  
RIVEREYES, a slender gray tabby she-cat, deep blue eyes  
MISTYHEART, a long-furred cream tabby she-cat, light blue eyes

**Elders: **MOTTLEDHEART, an elderly tortoiseshell she-cat, cloudy brown eyes

* * *

**THORNCLAN**

**Leader: **SOOTSTAR, a fit silver-grey tabby she-cat, golden eye; lost left eye

**Deputy: **STORMTAIL, a thickset blue-and-white tabby tom, dark brown eyes

**Medicine Cat: **SMOKEWHISKER, a lithe black tom, dark blue eyes

**Warriors: **VIXENLEAF, a petite dark ginger-and-white tabby she-cat, bright green eyes  
THORNPETAL, a black, silver, and white she-cat, blue eyes

**Apprentices: **HAZELPAW, a fit brown-and-cream tabby she-cat, honey-amber eyes

**Elders: **MOSSCLAW, an elderly white-and-gray tabby tom, green eyes


	3. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

* * *

_Chills roared up his spine, frigid and completely consuming. He felt his teeth chatter as his whole body shivered with pain from the amount of cold. It was so cold that it hurt._

_He heard a cry – his own – and he asked someone to help him. Some force, invisible to his eyes but felt… in his heart. And then there was a warm, kind brush of stars against his neck. Those stars turned to the sweetest forest-scented fur. Gentler than his mother's touch, a she-cat nuzzled into him kindly, sending a silent welcome. _

_A smile stretched over his scarred face… but then, in an explosion of stars, the forest-scented she-cat met his eyes, hers glimmering like starry sapphires. _

_"Follow your heart, Grass-star…"_

* * *

With a shivering gasp, Grass-star awakened. Just like the day when Larkstar had died, he found himself looking around and feeling unsatisfied, but this time his lack of satisfaction was for a different reason. He had come to the Spirit-Cave to ask StarClan to help him, and instead of his ancestors _helping_ him there was Larkstar, one member of StarClan. The only words that she had to say were, once again, this follow your heart nonsense.

He loved Larkstar – she was his friend and mentor – but that was all she could give him? Then again, it was the most that he'd had for a while now. Since Larkstar's prophecy – if he could even call it that – there had been no other signs from StarClan. Not for fifty long, painstaking moons. And now not just kits, but warriors, as well, doubted the existence of StarClan. Truthfully, Grass-star didn't blame them.

Now, in the worst time for all four of the Clans—leafbare—StarClan was finally speaking up, but to him, of all cats. Was he really going to be a part of this prophecy? Would he even _survive_ long enough?

"Flickingpaw," Grass-star murmured, his mind clouded with thoughts. At a quiet noise from the apprentice, he continued, "Follow me closely."

He turned around and trod down the long, winding path to the outside world, pausing only to check that Flickingpaw's small lump of a figure remained behind him. They walked through a few of hundreds of tunnels, the rest of which were used to confuse any outclan intruders. Those were ignored by the long-time leader, who simply walked, turned at a whim, and followed the faint warmth of sunshine and the sweetness of the fresh breeze.

Instinctively, Grass-star closed his eyes, slid through the exit, and entered a curtain of sunshine. A few months ago he might have stretched, maybe even pranced, through in an attempt to forget his worries—but he was older now, wiser. He knew that there was no escaping his issues and no escaping anything that was planned. Sometimes he wished that his innocence had lasted, but those reserves were bone dry, replaced by the blood that had been spilled by his Clan's claws. He used to shrug those thoughts away, thinking that they'd had no choice but to fight, but what if they did have a choice? What if—

"Grass-star—?"

"Still nothing," Grass-star heard himself say, turning to catch a glimpse of Finchstalker's face. The golden tom simply nodded before returning to his washover.

For a moment Grass-star dwelled on how normal this was to him, knowing that fifty moons ago these occurrences would have been enough to drive a cat to insanity. Clanmates would have fought against one another, leaders and medicine cats would have been targeted and questioned… Complete turmoil would have risen – but somehow this transition had been smooth.

Countless times he'd asked himself if something gone wrong. What would Larkstar have done in this situation?

The answer came immediately: She would have followed her heart. But he couldn't do that. What if his heart was somehow corrupted? What if it made him hurt his Clan?

He just couldn't act on a whim. He couldn't listen to anything but rigid logic. With logic there was much less of the unknown. With logic, he could be in _control_.

Grass-star blinked, realizing that his two Clanmates were peering at him expectantly, and spoke: "Flickingpaw, which direction should we go?"

The young tom padded forward, his striped orange fur gleaming, and closed his eyes. Grass-star could tell that his concentration was deep as he inhaled and exhaled, nostrils flared, mouth opened slightly to let in the meadow's sweet aroma. Finally, Flickingpaw spoke. "To the right."

"And why is that?"

The small apprentice took in another deep breath and then murmured, "Because that direction smells of us and our territory."

"Correct," Grass-star meowed. "Lead the way."

The small apprentice, his golden eyes stretched wide, his ears twitching downwards from fear, nodded and took the lead.

Grass-star's green eyes gleamed with delight as they walked, the BrackenClan leader relishing the feel of grass between his toes, of dirt covering his cracked pads, while they climbed another slope. Passing Finchstalker, who already seemed weary from the steep climb, Grass-star continued quickly until the pressure was relieved from his body. Gratefully, he drank in the fresh breeze, his nostrils twitching slightly as he inhaled the scents: Trees, water, rabbit, cats.

…_Cats?_

Grass-star's eyes stretched wide as he attempted to take in every inch of the terrain. Then, suddenly, he saw glinting… a familiar kind of glinting. The glint of eyes reflecting the sunlight—

"_Grass-star_!"

Claws ripped into his flank and a rumbling yowl sounded. Grass-star was immediately on his back. His vision swam away from him, every ounce of color draining from the world. There was complete blackness and a numb pain in the back of his head. Everything seemed surreal, as though none of it had actually happened… Then he regained control of his body. Fear curled from him in waves as every part of him screamed to move, to fight, but he stood no chance. He was being crushed.

His lungs burned immensely, causing him to open his eyes with fright. Grass-star could barely catch his breath, and in the place of a clear blue sky he saw a dark haze. Each breath that he could manage was laced with the potent odor of stones…

Another caterwaul sounded and, suddenly, Grass-star was freed. As he gasped oxygen into his lungs, he scrambled to his claws and, his fur on end, looked around.

"Are you mousebrained!?" The snarl, deep and masculine, came from Grass-star's side where a massive warrior had pinned down a dark blue tom. Behind him another cat rose, this one a lean dusty-gray she-cat that Grass-star recognized immediately. It was Stoneheart, EagleClan's, and as he examined the massive warrior a bit more, he realized that it was a tom named Smallflame.

Snarling sounded at Grass-star's side, though he couldn't peg whose it was. His ears were still ringing and his eyesight still held stars, but it was clear enough for him to catch a golden streak flying the air. That streak bore down onto the massive warrior and the dark blue tom. Screeches filled the air, blood twinkled in the sunlight, tufts of fur flew…

"Stop!" Grass-star yowled, his heart racing, blood pounding in his ears. "Have you forgotten that the gathering is tonight? This should be a time of truce between the Clans!"

A pause, and a slight one, occurred between the three wrestling cats before they jumped away from one another. Finchstalker backed away apprehensively and, his hackles raised, stopped once he was flanking Grass-star, who could almost feel the anger wafting from his body.

The large warrior spoke as a droplet of blood slid down his golden-ginger cheek. "My deepest apologies, Grass-star… My apprentice was a bit over enthused by the prospect of apprehending his first intruder."

Finchstalker's fur rose yet again, brushing against Grass-star's side. "Is he blind, too? Even the youngest kits know what a large moon means."

The dark blue tom snarled and moved to lunge, but Smallflame detained him with a none-too-gentle cuff on the forehead. As the apprentice's hissing lowered into an annoyed whimper, Smallflame continued, his dark eyes narrowed as though he was analyzing Finchstalker's every move: "He means no harm. Again, I apologize"—Smallflame dipped his head—"and promise that he'll be punished adequately."

"But Smallflame, you _told _me—"

"Have a safe journey," Smallflame meowed, nodding before he melted eerily into the undergrowth.

There was silence, but it was the loudest silence that Grass-star had ever experienced. His fur pricking with foreboding, the BrackenClan leader swept his tail in a signal and led the group down towards BrackenClan territory.

"Grass-star," Flickingpaw whispered, his trembling voice hushed, "what was that all about?"

"I don't know," Grass-star hissed, pausing to look behind himself. "And frankly, Flickingpaw, I don't care to find out." He turned his head and continued onward at a faster pace, his heart racing with new fervor; he'd been sure that, for a split second, his green eyes had met another's icy stare.

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE: **Well, I hope you enjoyed, and sorry for taking so long to update. I hope it was worth the wait. I tried my hardest to give you a heart-pounding first chapter! Thank you everyone who followed and reviewed – you don't know how much I appreciate your encouragement! Constructive criticism, reviews, and follows are extremely appreciated, but what's most appreciated is that you read. I know that I've said this at least twice, but I'll say it again: Thank you SO much, all of you.

**DISCLAIMER: **The series that this is based off of, _Warriors_, belongs to the one and only Erin Hunter – however, the characters, Clan, and most of the setting belongs to me, Miss Kisharoo.


	4. AN: Dearest Followers

Life is just a killer, isn't it? I'd know. Well, this is an author's note from your author (me). Life has just bit me in the rear yet again. Currently, I'm in a challenge that I need to finish (for myself) that won't be done until March 4th, 2014. It's a fanfiction challenge, and, paired with my life and other writings, it is going to make me _extremely _busy and stressed. Thus, I'm putting all fanfics on a hold. Well, not a hold, but on the backburner, and I'm telling you guys this because my updates will not be coming as quickly. That does not mean that I won't post until March 4th of next year. It simply means that my updates will come sluggishly until I finish my current projects, and I felt that I should tell you this. I apologize!

But when I come back, I hope to post two chapters to make it up to you all.

Thank you so much for waiting this long. Please stay with me until I can start posting like you ask!

- Kishy :)


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